


Night Shoot

by Silent_So_Long



Series: otpprompts [45]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: Blankets, M/M, Sexual Content, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr: otpprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 15:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4629834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard, Paul and a chilly evening</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Shoot

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the following sweet prompt posted upon tumblr’s otpprompts: [Imagine Person B snuggling up to person A because it’s cold.](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/120026773801/imagine-person-b-snuggling-up-to-person-a-)

Richard shivered as cold breezes played across his body; far above his head, stars winked and blinked their way across midnight black heavens. The temperatures, whilst not quite freezing, were edging that way, frost riming the trees that arched overhead. The frost had taken the place of the leaves that had once sprouted forth from now bare branches, and formed odd white bristling clumps in place of green-red-brown leaves. Richard tapped a cigarette out from the box he’d pulled from his trouser pocket and stuck it forcefully between frozen lips; his shaking fingers pushed the slightly crumpled carton back into his pocket once more, before he fumbled the lighter free from the confines of his other pocket. He lit up, inhaled, eyes closing as he did so; he held his breath for one, two, three seconds, before he exhaled again, sending clouds of nicotine-scented smoke and breath out into the vestiges of the night. 

All around him, the hum and whir of recording life filled the air, cut through with the sounds of a camera crew shouting instructions in German, in English and in at least two cases, Romanian. Rammstein were in the midst of recording a new video in Transylvania, and behind them, on a hill that arched high into the sky to seemingly pierce the clouds, stood what Till had sworn was Dracula’s castle earlier in the day. Flake, predictably, had grumbled about the castle, the cold and the snow upon the ground, yet it hadn’t stopped the keyboardist from flinging tightly packed snowballs in the general direction of Till when the singer had been otherwise engaged with a cigarette and a cup of coffee. Till had responded by flinging the remnants of his coffee in Flake’s direction, which had sent brown wet splatters across the otherwise pristine snow at their feet. 

Richard sighed, thoughts sifting back into the present again and he turned slightly at the sound of murmured voices nearby; Olli and Schneider were standing a little way away, armed with cups of coffee and thick coats. Richard shivered and wrapped his own coat a little closer about his stocky body as he watched Paul prancing past; the smaller guitarist’s body was covered in a thick, woolen blanket which trailed after him like a cape, as though the other man had not a care in the world; knowing Paul as well as Richard did, he suspected that he didn’t. It was very rare for Paul to work himself up into a towering rage, yet Richard had known it to happen; whilst an angry Paul could be a little intimidating, Richard often found the sight oddly arousing too.

Paul made his way over to him and crowded in against Richard's side, so close that Richard could feel Paul shivering hard against him, despite the blanket that still was draped around his narrow shoulders; he wondered if the shivers were as much for effect as they were for real. 

“Give us a light, Reesh,” Paul said, as he stared covetously at the cigarette that Richard held perfectly clamped between his lips.

Richard mumbled incoherently from around his mouthful, sending curlicues of breath-moisture and smoke up to the skies above, before he pulled his battered packet of cigarettes from his pocket again. He tapped out a cigarette from its crumpled depths and stuck it between Paul’s lips. Paul thanked him and eyed the crumpled cardboard package with an amused smile and arched eyebrow in Richard's direction.

“Shut up,” Richard muttered out from around his cigarette,.

“Never said a word, Reesh,” Paul insisted, with a grin.

“Well, then, shut up before you start,” Richard muttered, darkly, even as he tried to hide a grin. 

Paul grinned and allowed Richard to light his cigarette, bending forward to do so. Richard watched as the flickering flame danced across Paul’s face and caught momentarily in the other man’s eyes, like stars had momentarily taken up residence within them. He smiled when Paul leant away to send a brief plume of smoke up into the air with a satisfied smile, before he crowded in against Richard's side again.

“Paul,” Richard protested, even as he slipped one arm around Paul’s waist instinctively.

“Stop complaining. I’m cold,” Paul said, as he snuggled even closer against Richard’s chest. 

“I’m no better,” Richard said. “In fact, I‘m worse off, actually. You‘ve got a blanket.”

Paul grinned up at Richard, eyes almost disappearing between deep wrinkles that fanned out from the corners; Richard couldn’t help but return the grin, as it was just that infectious. 

“I’m angry at you,” Richard said, despite his grin. 

“Angry? Why?” Paul asked, loud enough to attract the attention of both Schneider and Olli, who began to drift over with interested, intrigued looks upon their faces. “What have I done?”

“I think it’s more what you haven’t done,” Olli said, proving that he was as perceptive as ever, despite not having heard the conversation between the two lovers. “I think Richard wants you to share your blanket with him.” 

“Well, you could have asked,” Paul said, even as he wriggled a little further away from Richard's body.

Already, Richard missed the warmth of Paul’s body pressed up against his coupled with the smell of the other man lingering in his nostrils. He didn't have long to wait before Paul snuggled up against him again, with his arms held wide, blanket billowing out and looking ever more like a cape. 

“I was trying to ask, y‘know,” Richard pointed out, even as Paul wrapped the edges of the blanket around them both. “But I was interrupted.”

He cast a dry glare upon Schneider and Olli, who merely affected innocent expressions, shoulders lifting and falling in swift shrugs of denial. 

“We’re trying to help you, Reesh,” Schneider said, as a grin began to tug at the corners of his mouth. “Far as I see it, you’re now better off than you were before.” 

“Shut up,” Richard said, and partially turned away.

His nose bumped that of Paul’s, from where the other man stood so closely against him; their gazes locked, and Richard could feel the slight _huff-huff-huff_ of Paul’s breath against his lips. Paul suddenly smiled, as Schneider, close by, made a retching noise.

“They’re gonna kiss, Olli,” he said. “I just know it.” 

“So what if they are?” Olli asked and amusement warmed his voice. 

Schneider merely huffed, and Richard heard two pairs of feet walking away; from nearby, he could hear the drummer complaining loudly to an equally tired and grumpy Flake about - _‘the boyfriends getting it on again.’_ Paul merely smiled at Richard and did little more than to smoke his cigarette almost down to the filter, eyes closing with every drag, tip of it burning cherry-red in the darkness. Richard watched him, consumed by the way that Paul’s lips puckered around the cigarette, and he couldn’t help bt think of those same lips curled around his cock, and the warmth of Paul’s tongue dragging down his length. He felt the first stirrings of arousal pushing at the front of his boxers and Paul was close enough to feel it, and to smile suddenly, with arched eyebrows. 

“Naughty boy,” Paul chided, but his tone was warm and amused. 

“You made me do it,” Richard accused him, but there was no real rancour in his tone. 

Paul merely laughed at him and threw the stub of his cigarette onto the ground, where he stamped it out with the heel of his boot. Richard had all but forgotten his own cigarette and he took the final few drags of it, before he copied Paul’s movements, tamping the butt against the snow with his boot. He smiled at Paul as the other man crowded closer again, blanket wrapping round them both whilst his hands rested gently against Richard’s butt. 

Paul was the first to close the remaining distance between them, lips grazing against Richard's own, warm and soft and tasting faintly of mint and of cigarette smoke. Richard’s hands rose to prop against Paul’s hips; he felt the blanket slide a little and the cold began to seep in. He sighed, and frowned slightly, an expression which made Paul look askance at him, brows pulled down slightly as he tilted his head questioningly to one side.

“Let’s just sit down,” Richard said, with a frown. “Too awkward like this.”

Paul merely nodded and moved away, with Richard his temporary shadow; they managed to find two chairs at the edge of the set, which they settled close to one another, blanket draped and wrapped closely around their shoulders. Paul smiled at Richard at close range before he reached up to curl his fingers against the back of Richard's neck.

“Now, then, Reesh, where were we?” he murmured, before he leant in to brush warm lips against Richard's teasingly.

Richard didn’t answer; he couldn't, too distracted by the feel of Paul’s mouth soft and warm against his own, the distracting slide of Paul’s tongue inside his mouth. He ignored the cat-calls that came from all quarters around them, and the whistle that undoubtedly came from Till’s direction; all that mattered was that Paul’s mouth remained upon his own. In time, they drew away, and both men were smiling; they didn’t move from beneath the blanket, glad for the fact that they weren’t needed for that particular scene. Every so often they would exchange kisses, and Paul’s hand soon slipped between Richard's legs, to teasingly stroke him beneath the cover of the blanket. Richard broke the kiss, and leant his forehead against Paul’s own, lips slightly parted so that clouds of moisture laden breath puffed explosively from between his lips. Paul continued to apply pressure, deft fingers drawing the occasional groan from Richard’s mouth, despite the fact that Richard himself was trying not to make too much noise and draw unwanted attention to what was happening beneath the blanket. He felt Paul’s eyes upon him, and caught the smug smile that danced across Paul’s mouth mere seconds before Paul's hand bore down with the perfect pressure; Richard came, as if on cue, a wretched groan bursting loudly from his lips, soon swallowed thoughtfully by Paul’s mouth.

“What the hell is he doing to you under there, Reesh?” Till asked, as he wandered past.

He’d obviously heard Richard’s aroused groan upon climax; judging by the licentious look in his eyes, Till knew perfectly well what was going on.

“Fuck off, Lindemann,” Richard gasped out, still feeling slightly numb from his orgasm. 

Paul didn’t bother speaking; instead, he turned a self-satisfied grin upon Till which spoke louder than words could have as to what he’d done. Till’s only response was to laugh and to wander away again, a wicked wink thrown over his shoulder at the blanket-wrapped lovers.

“I hate you, Landers,” Richard said, once Till had gone.

“No, you don’t,” Paul said, confidently, as he prodded Richard in the ribs. “I want another smoke, Reesh.”

“I think I’m more in need of one than you are,” Richard pointed out. 

“Then have one,” Paul said. “But don’t forget me.” 

Richard flipped out the box from his pocket and tapped two cigarettes into the palm of his hand; they sat in silence before the cigarettes were gone, consumed in silent enjoyment, whilst plumes of nicotine laden smoke were directed towards the sky above them.

****

Three hours later, the shoot was finally finished for the night; Paul and Richard bundled their way into their shared hotel room, Richard’s hands heavy weights against the curve of Paul’s hips. Paul was laughing about something that Richard had already forgotten, too distracted with thoughts of stripping his lover naked and making love to him in a soft bed, in the warmth of their hotel room to take much notice.

“I said my dick feels the size of a raisin, with the cold,” Paul said, when he failed to get Richard’s laughter with the first announcement of the size of his dick.

“That’s your excuse,” Richard retorted, even as he lifted his hands to paw open Paul’s shirt.

“Fuck you,” Paul said, as he laughingly slapped Richard's hands away. “You’ve never complained about my size before.”

“Hmm, no, guess not,” Richard said, distractedly, as his hands rose once more to paw again at Paul’s shirt.

That time, he managed to open more of the buttons, to reveal more of Paul’s skin, which pimpled beneath the slight chill that still lingered against their clothes and beneath Richard’s exploratory fingertips. Paul muttered something incomprehensible, tone turned dark and aroused, as he stepped in, Richard’s hands brushing and sweeping over the curve of Paul's shoulders as he moved. Paul’s breathing began to deepen, chest rising and falling beneath the sweep of Richard's palms as he moved his hands down, to circle fingers round Paul’s nipples, to sweep further downwards and to caress Paul’s stomach.

“Please, Reesh,” Paul murmured, breath warm and huffing against Richard's cheek. “Stop teasing.”

“Not teasing,” Richard insisted, as he moved his hands ever more slowly to Paul’s belt, fingers sliding leather through metal buckle. “I’m enjoying.”

Paul groaned, eyes closing, mouth opening on a sigh as Richard fingered his jeans open to pull them down. Richard cupped one hand against the swell of Paul’s erection and began to slowly stroke him beneath the fabric of Paul‘s underpants; he watched Paul’s face, at the slack-jawed expression of desire that passed across his lover’s face and dilated his pupils until the misty blueness of them were swallowed almost entirely by black. Paul seemed unable to speak, yet when Richard leant in to kiss him, Paul’s kisses were just as vocal as his voice often was. 

Richard dipped his hand into Paul’s underpants and wrapped eager fingers around his lover’s cock; he began stroking him properly, wringing eager noises from Paul's lips, part encouragement and part plea for something more. When Richard looked up at his lover's face again, he saw utter helplessness in the other man’s expression that seemed to shave years off Paul’s true age.

“God, you are gorgeous,” Richard murmured.

“Thank you, my child, and so are you,” Paul managed to force out. “Glad you finally recognise that I am God.”

“In your dreams,” Richard snorted.

“More like yours,” Paul murmured, as his eyes shuttered closed once more on the tail end of a needy groan. 

Richard couldn’t help but laugh at his lover, even as he stepped away, to peel off the layers of clothing that had separated him from Paul. Paul watched, even as he kicked away the clothes that Richard had began to unwrap from his body; Richard could feel the weight of the other man’s interested gaze upon his body. Richard made short work of removing his own clothing, before he led an eager Paul over to the bed. 

Paul waited, whilst Richard left for the bathroom, to return holding the lube and box of condoms. The bed bounced beneath Richard's added weight, as he tossed the condoms to one side and snapped open the lube. Paul’s gaze was intent and dark as Richard spread lube over his fingers; Paul’s hand was in constant, yet languid, motion, as the other man stroked his cock. Richard soon turned his concentration upon Paul’s body, as he began preparing him, slick fingers wringing groans from Paul’s throat. Paul’s body was in constant needy motion against the mattress and even when Richard's hands fell away, he still moved, hand wrapped around his cock whilst Richard hastily rolled on a condom and settled atop Paul. When they finally joined, deep groans coiled and twined through the air and Richard began to move, to give everything he had and everything he was to the man who lay beneath him, bodies moving and parting and pleading with one another for more, for love, for completion. And when they came, it was with choked off cries and grateful relieved groans, hands clinging and gripping greedily at sweating skin before Richard eased away, arms open and waiting for Paul to crowd in as he always did. Paul didn’t disappoint, head shoring comfortably against Richard's shoulder, lips pressing warm ticking kisses against Richard's throat. 

They were still lying in that position when Richard woke in the morning, Paul a heavy weight against his body, Richard's arms cramped and filled with pins-and-needles. Paul wasn’t fooled by Richard’s pouting complaints that his arms were too tired and cramped to make love that morning; he knew that it was just an excuse to get Paul to top. Paul, however, wasn’t going to complain, and neither did Richard, when Paul finally laid atop him, to slowly make love to him. 

They found that they’d missed breakfast when finally they made their way out of their hotel room, but, as they found out, so had the rest of the band, too weary from late night shooting to rise any earlier. When Richard and Paul trailed their way into the hotel’s restaurant to catch lunch, the other band members were already there, hungrily packing away what looked like a delicious spread. 

“Looks like someone got lucky last night,” Till said, dryly, as he smirked at Richard and Paul over the top of his sandwich. “Right pair of smug-looking bastards, you are.” 

Richard ignored him, whilst Paul gave Till the middle finger; Till laughed, and nodded in satisfaction.

“See? Your very silence speaks volumes. Much sex was had last night,” he said, even as Flake glared disgustedly at him. “What?” 

Flake deigned to answer; instead, he bit ferociously into his scrambled egg baguette and glared at Till, amidst laughter from the others.


End file.
